


The Workings of Time

by avuck



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Blood Gulch Chronicles, Daylight savings, Drabble, Gen, Misunderstandings, nerds, set in blood gulch, time travel doesn't work that way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1858971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avuck/pseuds/avuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simmons just doesn't understand Grif's new method to avoid doing things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Workings of Time

It was a sunny day in familiar Blood Gulch. Okay, really it was always a sunny day in Blood Gulch because the weather never changed, nor did the sun ever move from where it stood in the sky. Either way, it was a nice day, one that left Grif happy to lounge across the front seats of the Warthog, while the rest of his team rallied up for Sarge. 

The old man had called for a meeting of some sort, probably over some new conspiracy he'd constructed about the Blues. He'd demanded that all members of the Red Team attend at 9 o'clock sharp, but punctuality was too much of a hassle for the Hawaiian. As if he'd waste his time listening to another one of Sarge's dumb plans to ultimately wipe him out. 

With no one to bother him, the orange soldier let out a lazy yawn and shifted to make himself comfortable. This proved difficult due to his chosen hiding place, but he had a knack for finding a way to sleep no matter where he was, or his name wasn't Dexter Grif. 

Well, that was his name so naturally it was only a matter of seconds before there were rumbling snores coming from the jeep. They were interrupted only with a prolonged wail of the horn as someone seemed to be leaning against it. Grif woke with a start, and none to happy with whoever had just assaulted his ears with that racket. 

"Grif! What are you doing?" Of course it was Simmons. His voice rose in pitch at the end of his question, making Grif wonder if he'd even finished hitting puberty.

"Uhhh... Sleeping?" said soldier gave a begrudging mutter and flopped back into the position he'd been previously holding. Did he really have to be asked that? He figured it would be a given by now, considering how much time they spent together in this god forsaken canyon.

Simmons gripped the edge of the jeep and leaned over it, peering down at his lazy comrade. "That much is obvious. I mean why aren't you up at the base? Like Sarge told us to be?" 

"Think about who you're talking to here, Simmons. Since when do I ever follow Sarge's orders?" He sat up with a frown, despite the fact that it would go unseen through his helmet, "Anyway, I can't go now. Already missed that dumb meeting of his," there was a tone of mock disappointment and he waved a hand in Simmons' face, motioning for him to leave. 

He didn't of course. Grif exaggerated a sigh, not knowing what he expected.

"Missed it? But it's hardly past nine right now?"

Here, the orange soldier rolled his eyes, again going unseen by the one he directed the action to, "Not according to my clock. Says it's--" he flicked his eyes quickly to the spot in his visor that showed the time, "10:15. Already over an hour late."

This seemed to throw the resident kiss-ass into a frenzy, because then he was yelling and rambling and throwing his hands up in the air. From a distance Grif assumed it would look like some strange sort of dance. It would have been a riot if it weren't for the fact that he was still being a major nuisance. "I told you to set your clock back for daylight savings! Why do you never listen to me!?" 

"Geez, calm down dude," Grif spoke in a mellow tone, completely contrasting the one that of his friend, "Do I have to explain everything to you?" 

Apparently, he did, based off the confused tilt of the taller one's head. Aside from that he got no response, but he could just imagine the other's expectant expression. His lips would be pulled thin and serious, as was his usual attitude towards things, and his eyebrows would be raised in a way that would make Grif feel like he was being scrutinised by a teacher. If the look weren't coming from Simmons that is, because seriously, how could Grif ever take this guy seriously?

He let out yet another sigh, this sounding more dramatic than the first, "Okay, look. We were supposed to be there at nine, right? We were also supposed to set our clocks back an hour too. Weeeelll, I realised that if I keep my clock an hour ahead, then by the time 9 o'clock rolls around for the rest of you guys, the meeting will be long over for. "

It was the absolute most perfect way to get out of anything. Grif had to wonder why he'd never thought of setting his clock ahead before. 

"I-- you don't-- Uh, _what_?" his speech was choppy as he struggled to comprehend Grif's totally legit explanation. 

"Dude. I'm like, an hour into the future here."

Silence settled between the two, leaving them both simply staring at one another. Then Simmons groaned and shook his head, aiming his gaze toward the ground. "You don't understand how clocks actually work, do you?"

Figures, that he wouldn't get time travel.


End file.
